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No words can put anything or anyone in the box attach a label to it and stay politically correct than typical. It’s a form of expression that is open to interpretation. Like saying everything and nothing. Nothing that can incriminate you in the court of law or anywhere and still pass judgment. Everyone can fill in the blank as they wish but nothing anyone can trace back to you because you actually said nothing. In just one word one can express one’s distaste and disapproval and a whole lot more, everyone will understand, no need to add more. If you say ‘typical’ it says all.

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“One of the most tragic things I know about human nature is that all of us tend to put off living. We are all dreaming of some magical rose garden over the horizon instead of enjoying the roses that are blooming outside our windows today.”

Because

“People tend to dwell more on negative things than on good things. So the mind then becomes obsessed with negative things, with judgments, guilt, and anxiety produced by thoughts about the future and so on.”

Said Eckhart Tolle.

I say:

People are never satisfied. When they get what they want, they want more, bigger, better things. The cliché the grass is always greener on the other side is not just a cliché. If we care to admit we all know that there is some truth, a lot of truth in that old saying. We never stop craving, wanting, fantasizing, obsessing for all the things we don’t have yet. We are convinced life would be better if we have what we are dreaming of. And those seem to be always out of reach because once we got it there will be something new to obsessed about. And those become our goals trying our very best to achieve the things we think we need while complaining about stress depression lack of time burnout and all those conditions that make it impossible to relax and have peace of mind.

What to do then?

Continue as it is. Why? Because no matter what I or anybody would say, people will go on living their merry lives in their own familiar old trusted ways. We are creatures of habit and habits are hard to break. It doesn’t feel right when you do it. We go to shrinks, self-help groups, weight watchers anonymous this and that and it will work, or seemingly working, for a time; then all of a sudden we will get a moment of epiphany and we will begin to question our motives and before we know we are right back on the old track.

And why is that?

Because it feels good to have a goal, inspiration, motivation, a driving force that fuels our desires so we have a reason to wake up in the morning go to work and swallow all the bullshits we encountered on the road, it stops us from killing our bosses co-workers spouses children neighbors and the dogs and cats or whatever pets we have that take so much of our already so little precious time. It stops us from setting our double mortgaged houses landscaped gardens and state of the art we barely can afford cars on fire. It stops us from jumping off the cliff or bridge if you prefer or hang ourselves or at least packing our bags to have an indefinite vacation in the loony bin. It helps us to go on. You know what they say… A life without dreams is like a garden without flowers.

Whoever said that never heard of foliage gardening. Forgive my muddled thoughts. I’m loaded with tranquilizers and still sleep deprived. Not because I’m thinking of bigger and better things but because of the pain. The pain… I will go up and lie down for a bit. Till next time?

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I’m always on time, contrary to what the world says about our sense of punctuality. We are so famous for our habit of tardiness (along with equally famous mañana habit also known as the love of procrastinating) that we’ve been given a term for it — Filipino Time. Americans coined the phrase in the 1900’s because they were annoyed by our lack of respect when it comes to honoring appointments by coming on time. Tardiness is widely practiced in our country in all walks of life and generally accepted as part of our culture. I, myself don’t understand it and cannot tolerate it from others but what is my wish compared to those of the majority.

Besides, I can’t say that patience is really one of my virtues. I even have trouble waiting for the bathtub to be filled with hot water I rather take a shower.

When it comes to appointments or even a simple family visit (their places or mine) I will have a difficulty sleeping the night before, thinking all sorts of scenarios, all about what could go wrong. Meetings stress me out to the max sometimes I really believe it would cause me a heart attack. Funny thing is, you can’t detect any of those inner turmoils the moment itself. I’m cool as a cucumber (and I’m not pretending) being an extroverted introvert – I know how confusing it is for people so to give you some idea what I’m talking about allow me to directly quote an article I’ve read on the net: Everyone expects an introvert to be shy and reclusive. And we can be, but extroverted introverts also like to get out there and mix ‘n mingle. When we’re “on”, we are sociable and friendly. When we’re “off”, we hurry home to recharge in solitude. Even though we spend way more time introverting than following the crowd, people only see our outgoing side. They don’t realize that our social batteries are drained very quickly and so forth and so on – I manage social gatherings pretty well and can enjoy them up to a certain degree. Beyond that, lights off for me.

But like I said, detest it or not, I’m always on time. And if something happened in between that hinders me to be punctual, I see to it that I let those who are involved know that I will be late or will not show up at all plenty of time beforehand.

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…that’s how people look like here, sad, detached, hurried and morose. Big cars and even bigger houses, stable jobs, families and so many chances and choices gleaming future and opportunities, and yet all failed to put smiles on their faces. I am not looking at it from the outside, I live here long enough (even longer than where I came from) to know that whatever they don’t have is nothing compared to what most of the world population has to suffer and make do. And what is it that lacking in their lives? Predominantly warmth and affections, motivations and inspirations, gratitude and contentment, (all the things money cannot buy) and the incapabilities to carpe diem and enjoy little things or merely enjoy. Unless intoxicated. They need so much to laugh and be merry. Lots of alcohol, lots of food, lots of people, clothes, accessories, gadgets trips, anything excess. They do it or pretend to be doing it only occasionally. For the rest of the time, they walk like forlorn figures around they will put those in poor disaster areas in shame. Sometimes I would like to walk to them hold them by the shoulders and shake them hard until their teeth rattled shouting at their faces “Wake up! Don’t you know how lucky you are?”

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When I opened the nearest book which happened to be Villette by Charlotte Brontë; this paragraph on page 82 was the first that caught my eyes. Luckily enough it was the third full sentence on the page, which was required for this challenge. It says:

“Not that true contentment dignified this infatuated resignation: my work had neither charm for my taste, nor hold on my interest, but it seemed to me a great thing to be without heavy anxiety, and relieved from intimate trial: the negation of severe suffering was the nearest approach to happiness I expected to know. Besides, I seemed to hold two lives- the life of thought and that of reality; and provided the former was nourished with a sufficiency of the strange necromantic joys of fancy, the privileges of the latter might remain limited to daily bread, hourly work, and a roof of shelter.”

And I thought: how many of us are in this situation? How many are living inadventurous lives, unstirred by impulses of practical ambition? Many, I guess.

We open dream of other vocation, different lives; in some cases, different family and spouses. But not so many are brave enough to chase our dreams for the fear of unknown. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it, right?

But we all envy the Steve Jobs and Richard Branson of this world who dared to defy the norm and go their own way. I know that the road to success isn’t paved with gold and us writers cannot be all J.K. Rowling, and there are those priorities and duties towards what we hold dear, but mostly what stopping us is fear. Fear of failing, of not making it and finding that we burn the bridges in the process and we cannot go back to what it was. Fear of creating mayhem to otherwise smooth sailing lives we have. Fear of creating troubles that will dig us deeper into the abyss of more uncertainties and financial difficulties. And I understand all these because I am one of you.

I am one of those many who let me chained to the pillar of mediocre, boring, smooth sailing secure (as secure as you can get in this life) existence (and to quote Ms. Brontë directly) with my usual base habit of cowardice I shrink into my sloth-like a snail into a shell, and alleged incapacity and impracticability as a pretext to escape action.

Is it too late to escape? To change course? To throw overboard all that I have worked for all these years just to chase a fantasy? My father will turn in his grave. He who was an avid supporter of secure income and smooth sailing lives. Ironically he never experienced such because he dared to passed away before I could realize everything he envisioned me doing when he married me off to someone I despise.

All water under the bridge now. Better to move on than to linger in the distant past. Perhaps one of these days I will have the courage to break free and chase those fantasy of mine so, I will not lie there in my death bed regretting all the things I never dare to do…

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… and protect your individuality, your uniqueness, your originality, your core. Don’t be a copy of the majority, don’t follow the herd. Be your own person, dare to be different. Remember what Steve Jobs said?

Your time is limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life. Don’t be trapped by dogma – which is living with the results of other people’s thinking. Don’t let the noise of others‘ opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition.

But being you doesn’t mean you have to be different for the sake of being different, to stand out so people would notice, for your own ego, for attention, for adoration. Don’t be a nuisance. Do it because that’s who you are. And while you’re at it, respect others’ individuality too. Try to understand them, see where they are coming from and even if you can’t, let them be themselves as long as it is not harming your existence. Give them freedom you would give yourself to express their emotions and thoughts through the medium of their own individual choices. See the big picture. Don’t be prejudiced and judgmental. Remember the golden rule and try to live by it.

Do not do unto others what you don t want others do unto you.

Practice this too whenever you can:

God grant me the serenityto accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference.

Living one day at a time; enjoying one moment at a time; accepting hardships as the pathway to peace; taking, as He did, this sinful worldas it is, not as I would have it; trusting that He will make all things rightif I surrender to His Will; that I may be reasonably happy in this lifeand supremely happy with Himforever in the next. Amen.

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Since I lost my faith in organized religion and God himself, I have troubles celebrating anything that has something to do with it. I used to be religious. Not fanatic, but religious. I’ve been brought up surrounded by blind faith and superstitious beliefs. We dutifully recited the Holy Rosary each evening at six o’clock. I’d been tied up around the foot of a table whole night without supper for failing to memorize the Our Father prayer. I attended masses and offered flowers to deities. I had my first communion and confirmation. I’ve been baptized and heck, even married in the church, twice.

For all that happened to me, I never blame anyone let alone God. I accepted everything without question. I thought my faith was the only thing that was constant in my life and my unshakable belief in the power of the Holy Almighty was something no one can take away from me. I imagined myself being imprisoned and having to choose between death or live by renouncing my faith and I was sure I will rather opt for the first anytime anywhere, till two years ago. Something happened that made me abandoned everything I was taught and live by all those years. There is no way back.

Now, we are this far again. The season to be merry, the time to be jolly and I am neither of those. But even if I didn’t lose my belief in God, I doubt if I am going to join the hysteria of masses during this period. I wrote about the reasons why a few seasons ago and if you have the time, you can read it here, here and here.

What about you? Are you religiously celebrating the most celebrated time of the year? Do you still believe in God? How you hold on to your faith when everywhere you look you see the opposite of what you believe in? No, I’m not criticizing. Just showing interest. If you wish to share your thoughts I would love to hear them.

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“No varnish can hide the grain of the wood; and that the more varnish you put on, the more the grain will express itself.” ― Charles Dickens, Great Expectations

Or you can also say: put lipstick on a pig, put rouge on the corpse, making a purse out of a swine’s ear, putting a racing stripe on a … am I allowed to say it here? Probably not. Better leave it at that.

I think basically what Dickens wanted to say is: you can’t hide someone’s true nature. And I believe him. One’s genetic makeup is very hard to alter. Sure, surroundings, upbringing, experience and all those things could have an effect on someone’s innate nature but only on the surface, it cannot change what lies beneath. One’s inner essential nature will always come through sooner or later.

I’m not saying someone can be born a saint or evil and who can say what makes those people act a certain way. A basically good person can commit a grave offense out of desperation, necessity, passion, anger or whatever valid for that moment reason she or he might have but it doesn’t make them a bad human being automatically. You can almost see the genetic makeup of a person by his actions, the nature of their crimes, and how they react to a certain situation. Unplanned circumstances always provoke spontaneous reactions. And that’s when you can see how people truly are, by the way they handle crisis and surprises.

I remember breaking up with someone after accidentally observing his behavior towards others. It was a simple occurrence. We were aboard a public vehicle and the driver stopped to let an elderly passenger in. The person had a difficulty ascending the steps and my then boyfriend was sitting by the door. He could have easily extended his hand and help but he never did nor offered his seat to that person who was clearly having troubles to remain standing during that treacherous ride because of his advanced age. In the end, I gave up my place so the person could sit.

What happened was a revelation to me. My boyfriend was a gentleman. Caring, solicitous, respectful and sweet. To me he was. But to others, he could not care less. And that is something I cannot possibly accept. God knows what he gonna do later in the relationship when the cloak and dagger aspect of courtship is over. I decided I’ve seen enough and dropped him just like that. I believe I made the right decision.

What about you? Do you think I made the right decision?

I would love to hear your thoughts on the subject of genetic makeup in general if you care to impart your knowledge. Nothing too fancy or complicated, just your own truth and beliefs. It is always nice to hear other people’s input. I have learned so much that way.

I married someone eleven years my junior and my first husband was eleven years older than me. Though it doesn’t/didn’t matter to us it matters to the outside world and to the family. It matters physically in the sense of I/he was approaching middle age and starting to show and feel the telltale signs that belong to that age while he/I was barely out of his/my twenties. It matters psychologically/mentally as well. People constantly evolve and their preferences and mindset are constantly changing through the years. The differences are so apparent sometimes it can’t be ignored. It matters emotionally as well. How people react sometimes is a great deal depends on their age and the level of maturity. So is the way they handle problems and situations. Someone has to take responsibility and often times if not always, it falls to the shoulders of the one who is older and more experienced partner.

Socially it matters as well. Your circle of friends don’t belong to the same generation and it can pose quite some problems especially in the beginning. Like with my ex-husband for example, I was still in my teens while he was already in his thirties and going out wasn’t a straightforward matter. We didn’t even have the same taste in music. We ended up leading separate lives.

It matters financially too. Not only career wise but the actual earnings as well. You can’t compare a salary of someone who is barely out of school to somebody who is more experienced and already has a long work history behind him. Try to imagine this: Your spouse is already on a pension while you still have a decade or more before you can take yours, or vice versa. I think it is not easy for both dealing with this situation. I have seen problems arise between couples once they reached this stage whereas before they didn’t have any problems at all regarding age differences.

Deciding to have children when there is more than a generation gap between a couple is another matter to consider. I know someone personally who in his fifties married someone who was still in mid-thirties and had a five-year-old kid. See what I mean? No one wants to be a parent anymore at that advanced age. People might think it’s your grandchild instead. There is nothing wrong with that but going through with that stage (again) when all you want is to be peaceful and relax enjoying the fruit of your hard work instead of waking up in the middle of the night to feed a crying infant or dealing with teenager tantrums and late night escapades. No, thank you.

Age matters. It really does. Especially when the theories put suddenly to practice. And I don’t even talk about balding/thinning hair and sagging skin, gaining weight and declining libido and all that jazz.

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THE PAINT IN CHURCHES GETS WORN AWAY QUICKER THAN IN OTHER BUILDINGS. I THINK IT’S THE FRICTION OF THE SOULS. THEY GRIND THEMSELVES AGAINST THE CEILINGS AND WALLS.

IF I COULD REACH FOR SOMETHING BRILLIANT, THAT WOULD BE THE HOME WHICH BEEN DENIED TO ME AND THE PRESENCE OF THE PEACE I'VE NEVER KNOWN...

Why I write

I write to exorcise some ghosts (there are plenty) to make peace with my past, to keep sane, to let skeletons out the closet and occasionally let them dance naked, to vent. I write because I don’t know any better.

Healology

“Growing up, I always had a soldier mentality. As a kid I wanted to be a soldier, a fighter pilot, a covert agent, professions that require a great deal of bravery and risk and putting oneself in grave danger in order to complete the mission. Even though I did not become all those things, and unless my predisposition, in its youngest years, already had me leaning towards them, the interest that was there still shaped my philosophies. To this day I honor risk and sacrifice for the good of others – my views on life and love are heavily influenced by this.”

― Criss Jami

Musing

The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

“I have this strange feeling that I’m not myself anymore. It’s hard to put into words, but I guess it’s like I was fast asleep, and someone came, disassembled me, and hurriedly put me back together again. That sort of feeling.”

- Haruki Murakami

Invictus

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeoning of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate,
I am the captain of my soul.

what are you afraid of?

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The art of dancing

Kindred Spirits

Introversion

“...I also believe that introversion is my greatest strength. I have such a strong inner life that I’m never bored and only occasionally lonely. No matter what mayhem is happening around me, I know I can always turn inward.”

what i’ve been doing…

We were born to be free, to expand our horizons by going where we have never gone before, and not to hang out in the relative comfort and safety of the nest, the known. There is a place within us that is courageous beyond our human understanding; it yearns to explore beyond the boundaries of our daily life.

- Dennis Merritt Jones

Once I had started my solitude, I realized anew that it was easy for me to become accustomed to this state and that the most effortless existence for me was in fact in one in which I was not obliged to speak to anyone. My fretful attitude to life left me. Each dead day had its charm.

- Yukio Mishima

It well may be,
That we will never meet again,
In this lifetime.
So let me say before we part,
So much of me,
Is made of what I learned from you.
You’ll be with me,
Like a handprint on my heart.
And now whatever way our stories end,
I know you have re-written mine,
By being part of my life…

I'm Michelle. This is my blog. I write about women and fatness, expound upon semi-coherent thoughts I have in the middle of the night, and offer tough love to those in whom I am disappointed; they are legion.